


shoot it up, straight to the heart

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:58:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“are you proposing a threesome, malik?” harry smirks.</p><p>“what if i am, princess?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	shoot it up, straight to the heart

**Author's Note:**

> written for a prompt which basically asked for zayn/harry where they're both interested in the same girl at a club and decide to have a threesome but the girl's friends get her to leave so they end up just getting off with each other instead
> 
> title from gods and monsters by lana del rey

“‘m starting to think this night’s a bust,” zayn drawls, downing the rest of his drink as his eyes survey the room, searching.

harry murmurs in agreement, cheeks flushed and curls mussed, but eyes focusing on a girl at the other side of the bar. he turns to nudge zayn when he realises that zayn’s attention is on the same pretty blonde, who’s lining up shots with several of her friends, throwing them back and laughing.

“spoke too soon?” harry smirks, and zayn rolls his eyes.

“s’pose we should just. well,” zayn stumbles over his words, and harry drunkenly laughs, elbowing zayn playfully.

“are you proposing a threesome, malik?” he grins, not one for subtlety.

“what if i am, princess?”

harry shrugs, ignoring the jump in his stomach at zayn’s words, because he really shouldn’t feel so aroused at the word ‘princess’. 

“sure, i’m in.” with that, he waves the bartender over and orders a drink for “the pretty blonde girl over there. tell her it’s from me and my friend over here.”

when the girl gets the drink and the message from the bartender, harry can see her eyes light up with interest, flickering over to where he and zayn are leaning against the bar and looking them up and down. her pink lips spread into a smile, and she excuses herself from her friends, making her way over to zayn and harry.

“i’m sorry, boys,” she says in a brash voice, slurring slightly, “‘m afraid i don’t accept drinks from people i don’t know.”

“so come have a dance. you can get to know us,” zayn says, hooded eyes looking steadily at her, and harry admires her resolve, because the nearly predatory look that zayn’s giving her would be almost impossible to resist.

but she grins widely, saying, “well, since you asked so nicely,” and turns, sashaying into the crowd and leaving harry to admire the way her tight skirt caresses the curve of her ass before he and zayn follow.

a calvin harris song is playing, and the three of them let themselves get lost in the beat, harry pressing up in front of the girl and zayn sliding in behind her, pressing his hips towards her as he wraps his arms around her waist. harry can feel the music thrumming through him, bass matched perfectly with his heartbeat, and brings a hand up to trace her cheekbone, finger coming down to rub against her plump bottom lip, feeling the texture. and then he can’t help himself, leaning in to fit his mouth against hers. 

it’s a dirty kiss, messy and sloppy as their tongues flick almost obscenely against each other, and it takes zayn tapping harry and saying, “feel like the odd one out here,” to break them apart, harry just moving to suck at a spot on her collarbone, tongue working to make a mark.

she turns around, though, and presses butterfly kisses to the corner of zayn’s lips, teeth nipping gently against him. “you can share, yeah?”

“yeah,” zayn breathes, eyes wide.

“good.”

the music changes then, the beat turning slower and more sensual, and zayn immediately presses his hips against the girl’s, her own stuttering against him. harry watches, not entirely a part of the action, but still feeling oddly included.

and that’s when the girl’s friends appear in front of them.

“okay, amy,” a tall, dark-skinned girl says, “we’re heading back, and you’re coming.”

zayn and harry exchange a glance. this wasn’t exactly part of their plan, so to speak.

but amy’s being led away by her friends without even a goodbye, so harry supposes they’ll just have to live with it.

“damn,” zayn says into harry’s ear, “she was hot.”

“aww, zayn,” harry teases, “are you upset? do you want to grind on me, make it better?”

the two dissolve into drunken laughter, but harry sees a thought come into zayn’s head as his eyes glint with mischief.

and then, zayn’s pressed up against harry, arms winding around his torso and hips rubbing against harry’s own. harry’s still laughing, but links his hands behind zayn’s neck and rolls his hips deliberately towards zayn.

it’s a joke, he knows it’s meant to be, but zayn’s quick intake of breath is unexpected, and all of a sudden, the atmosphere changes - the air is thicker, heat invading the space between them. harry can see the sheen of sweat on zayn’s forehead, and he brings his thumb up to wipe some of it away, his hand slipping back down to tangle in zayn’s hair, pull his head closer roughly, drag his own nails over zayn’s scalp.

the noise zayn makes is low, guttural, and harry smirks at his expression - zayn looks utterly out of his depth. but he retaliates, scraping his hands down harry’s chest and idly toying with one of his nipples through the thin material of his shirt until harry’s eyes are narrowed into slits and he’s almost purring.

harry’s half-hard in his jeans, and with every roll of zayn’s hips against his, he can feel his dick filling up until his pants are almost uncomfortably tight and he wants to gasp. he pulls zayn towards him by his hair, and nips on his lower lip, teeth grazing it teasingly as their mouths meet.

it’s not as if they’ve never kissed before - harry’s actually lost track of how many times everyone in the band has made out - but it’s different this time. it’s always been a hello or goodbye peck, casual brushes of lips, or even lazily making out on the couch of their hotel room in the middle of a shitty movie.

this is the first time it’s ever felt like it’s leading somewhere, is the thing, both of them hard in their jeans and rutting up against each other like they’re seventeen and at a highschool party, sneaking handjobs in the bathroom as their heads swim with cheap beer and vodka shots.

when they break apart, they’re both breathing hard, reluctant to let go of each other and desire clear in their eyes.

“should - should we go back to the hotel?” zayn says, leaning in and speaking into harry’s ear so he can be heard over the music. his teeth graze against harry’s earlobe, and harry’s resulting shiver is so delicious that zayn just moves his lips to kiss along harry’s jawline, sucking at the column of his throat.

harry groans, a deep noise drawn from his throat. “fuck, zayn, just. need you to fuck me. can’t wait that long.”

zayn feels arousal pool in his stomach, and he pulls harry flush against his body, needing him closer. “you little minx, want me to take you in the club bathrooms like the slut you are?”

and harry whines, nodding, “please, zayn.”

then zayn’s pushing him back through the throng of dancing people, hands gripping harry’s wrists tightly until they’re away from the lights and the crowd, just around the corner from the dancefloor.

“harry,” zayn breathes, and he’s shoving harry up against the wall, hands against his torso and face centimetres away from harry’s - not touching, but only barely.

harry pulls zayn in, kissing the corner of his mouth gently as zayn presses one of his legs in between harry’s and ruts against him, the friction delicious even through the layers that separate them.

“thought you were going to fuck me,” harry breathes against zayn’s lips, and zayn pulls back.

harry takes advantage of zayn’s confusion by pushing himself off the wall and away from zayn, pulling him towards the bathrooms just around the corner of the empty corridor. as he pushes the door open, a man on the other side is just leaving, and harry opens his mouth to apologise immediately.

“sorry, mate, was just -”

but the man with the bloodshot eyes is already leaving, banging the door shut behind him.

and they’re alone, stumbling into one of the stalls and locking it behind them. the music’s quieter here, thumping bass dulled by the concrete walls, but the sense of urgency is still there in the rhythm of their thudding heartbeats.

zayn shoves harry up against the wall of the bathroom stall, and kisses him again, properly this time, hands moving up underneath his shirt to palm at his chest. harry reciprocates by clawing at zayn’s back, nails sharp enough to make zayn gasp, rolling his hips up against harry’s.

harry’s hands have moved, and they’re fumbling with the buckle on zayn’s belt as he sucks a mark onto his collarbone, nipping it with his teeth and flicking his tongue over the skin there to soothe the developing lovebite. zayn undoes the button and unzips harry’s jeans, pushing them down until his soft white thighs are visible, and helps harry with his own, pushing his boxers down.

“c’mon, want you to fuck me,” harry says, wrapping his hand around zayn’s cock, and the skin-on-skin contact is so fucking brilliant zayn could come right there with about three seconds of stimulation, but he gulps and forces it back.

he thinks of something then, and frowns. “don’t have any lube, do we? dunno if i can fuck you like that.”

harry smirks, then, digging in his pockets and pulling out a condom and a small satchet of lube, doe eyes looking entirely too innocent.

“feeling presumptuous, were we?” zayn teases as harry rolls the condom over his dick, opening the satchet.

“you complaining, malik?” and harry swallows down zayn in one go, mouthing at the head of his cock until zayn’s knees are weak and he’s moaning softly.

“fuck, god, no, definitely not.”

harry pulls off then, stands up, and looks at zayn expectantly. zayn just shoves him back up against the wall, hoisting his legs up around zayn’s waist so that their torsos are pressed flush against each other, and harry thinks he maybe stops breathing for a second. he didn’t know if zayn would be strong enough, and it’s definitely a pleasant surprise.

zayn kisses him again, tangling his fingers in his hair and swallowing the little needy noises that harry’s making, that he can’t help himself making. zayn’s cock is pressed up against harry’s, and every movement sends blood rushing through him until he can’t take it anymore, needs to be inside him, needs to fuck harry.

“haz - need to -” he chokes out, and harry nods, his hand guiding zayn’s dick as he shifts himself to fit their bodies together. zayn frowns. “y’sure you don’t need, like, fingers, or?”

“can take it,” harry says, panting, “just want you in me, yeah?”

and then zayn’s sliding inside harry, as slowly as he can, and fuck, he’s so fucking tight, and harry hisses softly, but when zayn looks at him in concern, he just says, “s’fine, i promise, just keep going.”

so he does, and when he’s bottomed out, he looks and can see that harry’s wearing a look of complete bliss. zayn can’t help but kiss him, lips meeting in a surprisingly sweet way. it turns dirtier, though, when harry begins moving, bouncing himself slightly on zayn’s dick, and zayn thrusts up into him, the tight heat so fucking wonderful.

it’s not long before harry’s whimpering, says, “zayn, need you to touch me, please,” and zayn’s wrapping his hand around harry’s cock straight away, stroking him with long movements of his hand as harry fucks up into it.

zayn’s so fucking close, and the delicious way harry’s ass is clenching around him as he moves is almost too much to handle. harry’s hands are gripping zayn’s back, nails raking his skin as he bites down on zayn’s shoulder, tensing suddenly when zayn rubs at the head of his cock.

“shit, again, yes,” he’s babbling, words muffled by zayn’s skin, and then his whole body tenses as he comes, shooting white over zayn’s hand.

that’s all it takes for zayn to lose it, groaning as he comes inside harry, almost whiting out from the feeling of it and harry’s lips still pressed against his shoulder, mouthing at him.

after a moment, zayn can tell it’s too much for harry, and pulls out of him, letting his legs unwind and drop to the ground so that he’s standing normally again.

“shit,” harry says, wobbling slightly and pulling his pants up before moving to sit on the lid of the toilet, “legs are a bit sore.”

zayn can’t help but laugh then, leaning against the wall and attempting to make himself presentable. “tends to happen when you get fucked against the wall.”

“it was worth it,” harry grins, “can’t wait to tell everyone how i seduced you.”

zayn frowns at him, “excuse me, kitten, if i remember correctly, you begged me to fuck you. in the bathroom of a seedy club, no less. which we are still in.” he opens the door of the stall and steps out, waiting for harry to follow him.

“fine,” harry pouts, “the seduction was mutual.”

zayn smiles at harry as he huffs his way out of the bathroom stall. he’ll let him have this one.

he just won’t tell him about the cumstains that are already evident on his black jeans.


End file.
